


A Boy Named Viktor

by GioGioStar



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Betrayal, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Inspired by The Hunger Games, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, Teenage Victor Nikiforov, as in i mean she standing on all fours is reaching at least to vitya's chin, just about everybody is going to die, mainly the OCs, makkachin is a giant sized dog, murdering children for sport
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26783065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GioGioStar/pseuds/GioGioStar
Summary: Viktor's life changes forever when he and a girl from his District are chosen to play in the 114th Hunger Games.
Comments: 26
Kudos: 28





	A Boy Named Viktor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lesbians_on_ice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbians_on_ice/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Cold Heart, Colder Games](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23573161) by [lesbians_on_ice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbians_on_ice/pseuds/lesbians_on_ice). 



> Please read Cold Hearts Colder Games from Lesbians on Ice. She was the one who created this AU and gave me the blessing to write Viktor's games. It's an AMAZING story.

Viktor closed his eyes as he quietly remembered his mother. She was a beautiful woman. Her hair was as silver as the moon. Eyes as bright as the summer skies. He remembered how clever she was. How she had taught him how to use a knife and sword. Just in case if he was ever chosen to be Reaped for games. Her grandfather was one of the rebels from District Two. When he had been forced to live in Twelve, he had brought with him his knowledge of Career training and trade. His mother eventually took over the family business, even though she fell in love with his Papa. A man whose family was full of proud miners.

He missed how she would always smell of fresh primroses and honeydew. He wished with all of his heart that he could hug her. But it had been years since he was able to do that. He remembered when he was small, not even ten yet, there was a sickness that seemed to overtake part of the district. Many people didn’t survive. His mother was one of them.

He remembered how he and his father had moved out of the Merchant Section to live out in The Seam. It was hard. Many nights he would go to bed with a gnawing hunger at the pit of his stomach. The only thing that would stave of hunger, even for just a moment was chewing on some mint leaves his father would forge for on his days off. While he lived with his father, he promised him that Viktor would never have to take out tessera for either of them. He would do everything he could to keep food on the table. Even if it meant breaking the law. He remembered how his father had shown him how to set traps and snares for the small game, even showing him an area that would allow Viktor to hunt without any peacekeepers watching. Things were good until he turned eleven. His father had been caught and beaten in front of the town. Viktor remembered just how bad the lashes to his father’s body were. Within the night, his father was gone like candlelight caught in the wind.

For months, Viktor was alone. Struggling to make ends meet. His father’s sister eventually took him in. But under the condition that Viktor took tessera out for himself and the household. He put his name six times every year. Plus the one time the Capitol would add for the Hunger Games. Twenty-one times he had his name in there. The odds weren’t exactly in his favor.

Viktor opened his eyes again, startled by the sudden tapping on a microphone. He could see Celestino, a young man from the Capital in some gaudy getup. The man clearly was not happy to be here in District 12 but played it off as best as he could. Viktor looked to the ground, seeing the ironed out white shirt that was still too big on him and pants that were just too small, showing a bit of his ankles. His aunt was kind enough to at least brush his hair smooth. Putting his hair up in a simple ponytail.

The young teen had grown to hate that woman and her family. She was her father’s younger sister. She was supposed to be a family. And weren’t families supposed to protect each other? Everything he did, he did for them. Forced to leave school to make extra money that she would always take from him to spend on her own frivolous desires. Eat the grain and oil that they only had because he was forced to either live out in the streets and die or put his name in so her children had less of a chance to be put into a murder show for the capital.

“Welcome, welcome to the annual Hunger Games! May the odds ever be in your favor!”

Viktor wanted to gag by this. The odds were not in their favor. They were the poorest district in all of Panam. They had better chances surviving the mine caving in than to run in the bloodbath that was the Games. As much as Viktor wanted to show his distaste, he kept his poker face on. He knew that they were being filmed and he didn’t want to risk being caught on camera by the Capital.

“Now, before we begin, I brought a film from the Capitol. It’s my favorite,” Celestino was chipper.

Viktor listened to the movie. They played this every year. Every time they played any of the Hunger Games on the television. He could hear the voice of the President from the first and second rebellion. Talking about how terrible war was. How it left widows, orphans, and motherless children… Acting as if the Capitol were victims of having spoiled children. And how they had to continue disciplining them after the second rebellion ended in failure.

The silver-haired teen looked up to the stage, seeing Celestino with his head down almost as if he were in prayer over this. Viktor knew that Celestino was just a person from the Capitol. It wasn’t like he would ever have somebody he knew and loved to be forced into a killing match. He was taught to love these Games. And he felt pity for the man.

“I get goosebumps every time I see this movie. It’s so inspiring,” the man was clapping.

Nobody else was.

“Well, let us begin. We shall go ahead and select the tributes for this district. After all,” Celestino’s voice was sing-song, “Ladies first.”

The man dug through the bowl full of names. It felt as if time had grind to a screeching stop. The more he dug into the bowl, the more everybody’s nerves seemed to hinge. Viktor felt an eternity pass with every second. He hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until Celestino triumphantly pulled a name out of the bowl.

“This year’s Female Tribute for the 114th Hunger Games is Zinnia Sallow.”

A sharp sob rang through the girls' crowd. Viktor was willing to bet that the one who was crying was either the poor girl who had been called out or the girl’s family that was of Reaping age. Viktor watched as the peacekeepers pulled a young girl around his age from the crowd. She was crying as she was being led to the stage.

From the girl’s appearance, Viktor could see that she was from the Seam and most likely her family were some of the original people from this district. She looked so much like his father. The dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin.

“And now for the boys,” Celestino spoke suddenly.

Viktor darted his focus back on the man from the Capitol. His stomach turning into knots over who would be chosen. He wanted this over with. He had work tomorrow and knew that he would have to wake early in the morning for it.

“And this year’s Male Tribute for the 114th Hunger Games is Viktor Nikiforov,” Celestino was beaming with pride.

Viktor wanted to be anywhere but here. He wanted any name but the name that was on the slip of paper. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to make a damn fool of himself if it meant that he would be spared. He knew that his cousins would not bail him out. Nobody would care if he were to be slaughtered there.

He took a deep breath before slowly exhaling. His body, moving on its own accord. He held his head high. If he were to die, then he would die. But he wouldn’t let them take away what little he had left. The Hunger Games would be where he would die. The only comfort he had now was knowing that he would soon join his departed mother and father. It wasn’t like District 12 would win. They haven’t won in decades. If he were to die in the Games, then he wanted to at least go out with some dignity.

When he finally made it to the stage, he was greeted with brown eyes silently shedding skin. Viktor took a closer look at her. Her olive skin beautifully tanned as her face was covered in freckles. She was a trembling and terrified girl. Both of them were going to die.

“And here they are. Your tributes for District Twelve,” Celestino was beaming with pride, “now you both go shake hands,”

Mechanically, Viktor shook her hand. He could see that she was struggling to contain another sob. It didn’t take too long before they took them both to the Justice Building. The place was used only for the Tributes to say their final goodbyes to their families while they were to be carted away for the slaughter. Viktor had been placed in one room while his female counterpart was put in another. She was most likely crying to her family about how she didn’t want to go.

The young silver-haired boy huffed as he leaned against the wall. His aunt and uncle weren’t going to bother with him. Why would they? They used up his usefulness for them. In sacrificing him to keep their precious children from stepping foot into the bloodbath, they threw him instead as their sacrificial lamb. Viktor spat on the floor, not even caring at this point. In his mind, burning this bridge was going to bring him some satisfaction. He didn’t want to see them. They weren’t really his family.

Viktor was about to get up from his spot when he snapped his head to the door opening. His aunt, uncle, and their three children came walking in. The youngest just turned twelve a few months ago, looking at him softly.

“Hi,” he smiled in a whisper.

“Vitya,” his aunt placed her hand on his shoulder.

Instinctively as if he had been touched by fire, the teenager recoiled. Now that he was going to die, she was trying to play comforting parent. She was the reason why he even got into this mess in the first place. Something in him felt hot and angry. He hated her. He hated them.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t call me Vitya. Only my family can and they died already!”

“Vitya, be reasonable,” His aunt was looking at him shocked.

“I am! Your brother died, my father! And to save your own family you threw his only child to the lion's den to be killed! If he were still alive he’d,” Viktor finally felt a wave of grief and fear hit him.

He didn’t want to die. He shed his tears bitterly. Nobody touched him. Nobody would save him from this nightmare. He could see it now. His body bleeding out on the arena by some Career or really any other Tribute.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I hope your kids get chosen,” Viktor’s voice was callous and cruel.

The silver-haired teenager couldn’t help it. His mouth was salivating as he watched the food be placed on the table. It had been years since Viktor had a full stomach. He remembered back when his parents were alive how they had saved money for a single meal where they would eat as if they were from the Capitol. Even though her feast wasn’t anywhere like this, he knew that during the Reaping, they would at least go to bed with a full stomach.

As soon as the meal was ready for them, Viktor and Zinnia lost themselves as they ate as much and as quickly as they could. The richness of the meal worried him, however. He wasn’t used to eating something like these dishes. But he would do everything in his power to keep it down if his body decided that it was too much.

“My word,” Celestino gasped, “were you two raised in the wild with table manners like that?”

“I was raised in a house,” Zinnia looked at the Capitol man with a face full of food as bits of potato and beef flew out of her mouth.

Viktor burst into a fit of laughter at the girl’s quick wit. He couldn’t help but spit out some of his food from the laughter that erupted deep from his belly. He was wheezing from what she said. He knew that what she said really wasn’t that funny. But with everything going on, it seemed to be the funniest thing he had ever heard.

“Both of you are worse than last year’s tributes,” Celestino started grumbling about something else.

Viktor froze when he heard that comment. Last year’s tributes were from The Seam. Two starving children who had never had a full meal in their bellies. Without thinking, Viktor dipped his hand into something that he had never seen before. As soon as he touched it, he felt cold lingering into his fingers. Even though it looked very thick and solid, it seemed that the heat of his body was melting it, making it creamier. He brought his fingers to his mouth and started licking his fingers, making sure that he slurped as loudly and rudely as possible. He had to admit, the thing he was licking was delicious. It tasted of a kind of citrus along with other sweets and sugars that he assumed was supposed to be other kinds of fruits that he had never eaten before.

He grinned widely as he saw the shock, disgust, and horror settle on the man from the Capitol’s face rather nicely.

“You’ll have to pardon my table manners. It’s difficult to partake in them when I haven’t eaten anything in three days. Unless you count a handful of mint leaves with water.”

“Oh mint is pretty good,” Zinnia nodded in agreement, “it keeps the hunger at bay. But I have to say, I’ve never had anything like this. My family can barely afford meat on the table.”

“Same.”

Both of the tributes continued discussing the average meals and rare treats they would get to enjoy while they were in their district. He could see that Celestino was growing more and more uncomfortable with every exchange. It served him right, Viktor strongly felt. District 12 was one of the poorest districts in all of Panam. 

Their chattering suddenly stopped when they saw a drunken man stumbling into the dining cart. Immediately, Viktor had recognized the drunken man as Yakov Feltsman. He was the 76th Hunger Games Victor. In fact, he was one of the few winners that District 12 had. The previous District 12 victors were either shrouded in mystery or were rebels that the Capitol had swiftly executed after the failure of the second rebellion.

Yakov had become the bumbling drunk of District 12. Viktor remembered how one year, Yakov had shown up for the Reaping completely plastered. He threw up all over the stage, horrifying half the audience and the mayor of their district before he slumped onto one of the chairs before snoring loudly. Viktor didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or gawk when that had happened. But now, he just watched the man that was supposed to be keeping them alive in this year’s Games.

Zinnia and Viktor watched silently as the older man dug through his coat pocket before pulling out a flask. Yakov sat down before he grabbed a wine glass, pouring from his flask into the cup before he took a swig from the silver flask in his hand. A wave of overwhelming emotions washed over Viktor as he realized that if this man couldn’t stay sober, then he was going to die.

Viktor looked at Zinnia, seeing that she must have come to the same conclusion. Without any warning, Zinnia had grabbed a steak knife and slammed it in front of Yakov.

“You smell like booze,” Zinnia spoke sharply.

“Live as long as me and you can smell however you damn well please,” Yakov barked.

“Maybe one of us can live long enough if you would stop drinking,” Viktor snapped back.

“Good luck,” Yakov barked as he continued drinking.

Viktor grabbed the glass from Yakov’s hand, seeing the man’s face turning red and purple. He tossed the drink on one of the random plates of food. He knew that there was a possibility that neither of them would live. But he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“We plan on living,” Viktor looked at him.

Immediately, Viktor was met with Yakov’s fist right to his face. Without even thinking, Viktor fought back. Both of them threw a few punches before they were separated by the peacekeepers that were on the train with them. The teen panted as he was pulled off of Yakov. Viktor spat on the carpet, the red of his blood blended with the reds of the carpet. The peacekeepers were about to take Viktor out of the cart, maybe throw him off the train, or maybe take him to his room before Viktor had stopped them.

“You both want to win?”

“Yes,” Viktor looked at him.

“You,” Yakov looked at the girl, “Zinnia? Why do you want to win?”

“I want to see my family again.”

“Viktor?”

The silver-haired teen bit his lip as he thought. He wanted to live. But why? He knew the reason but he had the impression that if he lied, Yakov wouldn’t help him with surviving. He was still angry with what his aunt and uncle had done to him. They forced him to take so many Tessera for them. It would have been one thing if they just made him get it for himself. But they forced him into getting it for their entire household, including themselves. He wanted to come back to his district and laugh at them in one of the homes in Victor’s Village while they struggled to make ends meet. Let their children go into the games and die.

“Spite,” Viktor gave Yakov a hard look, “I want to come back and tell my aunt and uncle to go fuck themselves.”

Yakov shook his head as he chuckled. Viktor wasn’t sure if he said the right thing or not. He watched the old victor walk over to one of the potted plants. He pulled out a few flasks as he started pouring whatever booze was in there.

“I’ll help you both if you promise to stay alive as long as you can, and I’ll be as sober as possible,” Yakov looked at them both, “Is that a deal?”

“Yes!” both Tributes were grinning.

“When we get to the Capitol, I want you both to smile and wave. Act like you’re both excited and honored to be partaking in the games.”

“Why? We’re not happy to be sent out to our potential deaths,” Zinnia looked at him.

“Sponsors. They can mean the difference between life and death. Get them to like you, and you will be getting things that can mean you dying for their amusement or going back home to your family.”

Viktor nodded as he looked out of the train window. When they reached the capital, they were both going to have to play the biggest roles of their lives if they wanted to live.

Viktor had never been pocked, prodded, plucked, scrubbed, and cleaned so hard before. He felt his head spinning by the end of it. The odd-smelling oils they rubbed on his skin… They didn’t smell bad, in fact, they smelled amazing. But it was just so mind-boggling how at the end of it all, he felt like a freshly plucked bird ready to be roasted.

He was worried about what kind of get up they would force him to parade in. They were always so bad. Dressed up as dirty miners or lumps of coal. One of the games from before the second rebellion, he remembered seeing District 12’s tributes covered in what looked like soot stark naked. He had a sinking feeling that would be his fate. They continuously complemented how he and his partner were very beautiful compared to previous tributes from his district. Maybe they would feel that they both could somehow pull off dirty and naked. Then there was that other year when he was but a small child where they tried to make the tributes look like actual pieces of coal, only to make them look more like black lumpy potatoes. They died within the first five minutes of the games to the Careers.

Viktor rose up from the metal table, covering his genitals with his hands as the Stylist entered the room. He never had been one to be shy over his own nudity or the nudity of others. But being naked, plucked from almost every hair on his body except for his head, eyebrows, and lashes… It just made him feel even more dangerously exposed. It felt wrong and uncomfortable.

The teen didn’t even bother catching the Capital Stylist’s name… Cao, or something or another. He could see that he was completely unhappy with being stuck with Twelve. However, he noticed a glimpse of a smile on the man’s face.

“I know what to do, I’m just lucky that both you and your partner are beautiful to look at.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Viktor sighed as he felt hands all over him.

Viktor closed his eyes. He felt the man and his team manhandling him. Gluing, taping, throwing powders everywhere to the point that he had to sneeze more than one occasion. It took them hours before they finished getting him ready for the parade.

When Viktor did finally look at himself, he was stunned. He looked like burning coal. Most of his skin was covered completely in black charcoal with gems and stones. Orange, and red stones glittering in the light as if he really were on fire. His hair was done in a way where it looked as if it were smoke emitting from his body the way it was curled and crimped. Thankfully, he wasn’t completely naked. They had given him black underwear that matched most of his skin.

He didn’t have much time to continue studying what they had done to him as he was being ushered away for the Parade. He saw his Tribute Partner looking almost exactly like him. Just as covered by charcoal and naked as him. She looked at him nervously as she tried to cover herself a little more. She felt just as exposed as him.

“The two of you need to be more confident,” Yakov stated.

“You want to be running around naked like this?”

“The faster we get this over with, the better,” Viktor sighed as he hopped onto the chariot.

Zinnia sighed as she joined him. The parade started. They waited for their horses to start moving. Yakov had told them not to worry. The horses were trained to do their thing and wouldn’t need them to do anything with them. When it finally got to their reveal, the crowd was going wild. Viktor saw that Zinnia was getting a little nervous and he gave her a soft smile.

“Flirt with them a little,” Viktor whispered.

She nodded as she watched Viktor wave, giving his heart-shaped smile to the crowd. Quickly, he saw Zinnia fall into the role, throwing kisses and winks with him to the crowd. The more they did so, it seemed that the crowd grew wild. The crowd loved them. This was good. They both knew that the moment they stepped onto Capitol soil, they knew that the games had already started.

Viktor was wide-eyed when he saw the apartment they would be staying in. It was so unreal. Beautiful, slick, modern. Nothing like the homes back at Twelve. He was almost scared to touch anything in the apartment. Scared that he would somehow destroy the property.

“Both of you go take a shower. When you’re done, come back here for dinner. You’re both too skinny and need to eat,” Yakov barked, “and we’ll talk about strategy for the training tomorrow.”

Both tributes nodded as they heard the old victor. From the corner of his eye, he saw a young man in red. He looked at him and smiled as the man motioned for them to follow him.

“Hi, I’m Viktor, what’s your name?”

“Don’t bother asking,” Yakov huffed as he started to pour himself a glass of wine, “That boy is an Avox. Won’t be getting too much of a conversation out of him.”

Viktor paled slightly from the news. He knew what an Avox was, even though he had never met one before. They were people who had betrayed the Capitol and the country. This was their punishment. To be slaves… Forever to lose their voices. To have their tongues removed. It was one of the most horrific punishments that the Capitol could throw at a person.

Viktor and Zinnia were led by the Avox to their rooms. Viktor saw the nightlife of the capitol from his window. It was different from the night sky back home at Twelve. The night sky often looked as if the sky had burst into millions of tiny diamonds of deep blues, royal purples, majestic pinks, and even warm oranges glued onto a black background. But the only stars in this sky were the artificial ones that came from the buildings.

He turned as he made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. It took him maybe around forty minutes or so to figure out how to use the shower. There were so many buttons, switches, and levers that he was surprised that it didn’t even include the kitchen sink. By the time he did figure out how to use the shower, he was exhausted and ready for food. He was relieved that he no longer was covered in charcoal but when he stepped out of the shower he had realized that he didn’t even have anything to wear. The Stylist took away the clothes he came with. It wasn’t like they would give him time to pack up his clothes. He looked at his room and started looking around. He opened one of the drawers and was surprised to see that there were clothes in there. He pulled out a gray warm sweater. The more he inspected the sweater, the more he realized that it was most likely going to fit him. He threw it on before digging through the drawers before he found dark-colored pants that would work with the sweater. The fabric of the pants hugged his frame nicely, showing some curve to his body. The sweater seemed a bit bigger than he expected, but he had seen some of the capital people wearing something like this, even though it was more obnoxious in color. He made his way to the dining room, seeing Yakov and Zinnia chatting. He could tell that the older man liked her more. Yakov was still sour over what he did back on the train.

“Finally, you decide to grace us,” Yakov grunted as he sloshed his drink around.

“Didn’t you promise us that you wouldn’t be drunk?”

“Still sober, you little brat.”

Viktor nodded before he sat down with them at the table.

“What can you both do?”

“Like what?”

“Survival wise? What can you do?”

“My best friend back at school, Mari,” Zinnia looked up, “her mom is one of the healers at The Seam. Her mom was showing us how to make salves and things like that for infections and fevers.”

“That’s good. That will help you. And you, Viktor?”

“Not much,” Viktor lied, not because he didn’t want to lie to Yakov, but because at the end of the day Zinnia was his opponent, “I just do manual labor around the District.”

“That’s still something. It takes a strong body to do physical jobs. You may not show it, but that’s good. It will mislead your opponents.”

“Okay,” Viktor smiled.

“Now, tomorrow, for your training, I want you both to focus on survival skills. I don’t want you anywhere near the combat area unless it's for self-defense training. Otherwise, stick to survival. Do not mingle with the Career Tributes. Do not start fights with them. And when you go to get evaluated, don’t do anything crazy. Just do the survival skills.”

Viktor couldn’t believe just how huge the room was. Already the other tributes were in the room in the various stations. Yakov’s words rang in his head for a moment before he shook them out. The first thing he did was walk by the station to identify plants and bugs that were safe to eat. Safe to say that based on the plants, he wasn’t in too much danger. But he almost would.

have killed himself with some mushrooms. After a while, he found himself looking at the swords. His mother had taught him a bit, but he knew that he couldn’t show that he knew enough to defend himself. He picked up the wooden sword and smiled as he swung it around a little.

“Sup,” Viktor looked up to see one of the tributes.

“District Four?” Viktor asked.

Viktor felt his face heat up slightly when he saw him. The tribute looked like he had to be around his age. He was the cutest boy Viktor had ever met. If things were different, he would have asked him out. But things were the way they were now.

“Yeah, and Twelve?”

“Yup.”

“Kenji Gamizu,” he gave him his hand, “and you are?”

“Viktor Nikiforov,” Viktor found his voice squeak slightly before he coughed, “Viktor. My name is Viktor.”

“I’m no expert with swords, but I can give you a few pointers,” Kenji smiled.

“Yeah, that would be awesome,” Viktor looked at him with a heart-shaped smile.

Viktor was glad that he was able to train with a sword at least. It had been a while since he had done something like this. And surprisingly enough, Kenji knew some things that he didn’t know. That helped him.

“Look at Twelve here,” the male tribute from One jeered, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“Practicing,” Viktor looked back.

“Yeah? Why bother when we’re going to kill you before you even get a chance to grab a weapon,” he shoved him roughly.

“Prove it,” Viktor looked at him as he got closer to his face, “Let’s go to the station. No weapons.”

“You’re on.”

Viktor and the One went to the station for hand combat. They both shook hands out of respect, even though clearly it was begrudgingly. The instructor monitored and gave them the signal. And both were off. Viktor was able to get a few good hits on him, playing as dirty as he could. It didn’t matter if he didn’t play by the rules. It wasn’t like any of them would once they actually were in the Games.

The fight was a blur before Viktor found himself pinning the Career to the ground after he kicked him behind his knee.

“Match won, District 12,” the instructor stated.

“Wow, Cicero, what an embarrassment,” the girl from one laughed, “you got your ass handed by Cutie.”

“Screw you, Augusta.”

“Are you really from District One because wow,” she jeered at him.

Viktor helped Cicero up from the mat, surprised to see the boy take his hand. Viktor could see that just about every tribute had stopped what they were doing to see what was going on. He could only imagine their surprise when they saw a Career fighting one of the weakest Districts and seeing the Career get their ass handed to them.

“Good match,” Viktor smiled.

“Yeah, good match. But next time, in the arena, I’m going to kill you.”

“We’ll see about that,” Viktor was sing-song as he started to make his way out of the Training Hall.

As soon as he stepped out, he was greeted by an extremely angry Yakov who simply grabbed him by the arm, dragging him to their floor, screaming about how he couldn’t even follow simple instructions. Tomorrow, Viktor would listen to Yakov’s advice. He would focus on the skills that he was shaky at.

It seemed that so far, this week was just him getting yelled at by Yakov while Zinnia was always on his good side. He was still fumbling with what Yakov wanted him to do. But he couldn’t help but to go with his gut feeling. He swore when he had told Yakov that in the final part of the evaluation, he had used the sword and beheaded most of the dummies, all of the Capitol could hear the old man screaming. But when the results came in, he couldn’t help but see the old man, for a split second beam with pride over both his and Zinnia’s scores. She had scored an 8 while he had scored a 10. He knew that back home, everybody would be wondering what in the world they must have done to earn scores like that.

Tonight, however, was the night where they would be speaking with Antony. He was practicing with Yakov, to his surprise. And for the most part, things went smoothly. He played with his charm and charisma. He wanted to play the playful golden boy of the capitol. The only real family he had is the Capital and he was excited to play the games. 

And when the night came for the interviews, Viktor felt nervous. He had on a black suit, his white shirt visible. His equally white bow tie felt constricting. His stylist had his hair in a simple ponytail, as he had in the Reaping, although instead of a normal hair tie, he had a thin black ribbon holding his hair together.

Talking with Antony, though was easy enough. He answered the man’s questions, tossed back a couple of banters as if they were old pales. He saw that the Capitol was eating it up. And Yakov’s words were ringing in his head. This was a television show. If he could make the Capitol fall in love with him with his story, then he would come back home. This was honestly the first time Viktor felt that he actually could win this. Actually, win this Game and go back home. Help set up some kind of orphanage for those in his District to protect children from the abuse he faced. Maybe give them a better chance to live a full life without ever having to worry about their next meal or how many times they had to put their name in for the Tessera.

When everything was finally over, Yakov told them both to go to sleep. They would need it for the Games. Viktor and Zinnia nodded as they went to their rooms. But no matter how badly he knew he needed sleep, it wouldn’t come to him.

Carefully, the silver-haired boy crept his way to the living room in the apartment. The days since he was in the Capital were a blur. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Last week he was throwing doing odd jobs like moving cargo for merchants, and even doing runs for supplies for those that lived in the district to make it run smoothly. Now, here he was… In the Capitol. Probably going to die for their amusement.

Viktor turned his head when he heard footsteps. Zinnia was behind him watching.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Viktor asked.

“No,” she sighed as she kept twisting at her nightgown.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“No.”

“I wish we didn’t have to do this,” Viktor breathed deeply.

“You probably have a better chance at winning this than I do.”

“No, I don’t. We’re both from the same district and Twelve hasn’t won a game since Yakov and that was a million years ago,” Viktor chuckled, glad that it brought Zinnia a soft smile.

“I don’t want to die.”

“I don’t know if I want to live,” Viktor looked at her surprised expression, “I mean, I don’t know how to say it. There’s really nothing for me if I go back home. My mom and dad really are dead. My aunt and uncle forced me to get Tessera for both of them plus their children. It was that, or I die in the streets.”

“I’m really sorry,” Zinnia spoke as she sat next to him on the window sill.

Viktor shook his head, acknowledging her sympathy but reassuring her that it wasn’t necessary. What was done was done. There wasn’t much that could be done now. He was here in for the Games just like everybody else.

“I told them that I hoped that their children would be chosen next year. They have three kids. One of them is a year younger than me. And they have a girl who’ll be of Reaping age next year. The youngest one is about three, so he won’t be in there for at least another ten more years.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say to them,” Zinnia stated.

“I was angry. They used me to keep their children safe.”

“True, but do they have anything to do with it?”

“I know.”

“If you do win, are you going to let them live with you in Victor’s Village?”

“No. I don’t want anything to do with them. I’m dead to them and they’re dead to me. And you? Are you going to let your family live with you in Victor’s Village if you win?”

“Yeah. I have a little brother who will be old enough for the Reaping in a few years. If I win, then at least he won’t have to put his name in for the Tessera.”

Viktor nodded as he continued to look outside. He could faintly see his and her reflection through the glass. Outside was full of life. He stood up from the window as he bid Zinnia a good night. He felt his hand being pulled, stopping him instantly.

“Do you have a girlfriend back home?”

“Na, girls don’t interest me, if you catch my drift,” Viktor winked before he started to make his way back to his room.

“Viktor,” Yakov spoke to him, “they are going to put a lot of things at the center of the Cornucopia. Things that you will need to survive.”

“So go for it and grab stuff and bail?”

“Only if you want to be an idiot and die. Grab something from the edges and run. Did you make any allies during your training?”

“The Careers wanted me to join their pack.”

“Did you accept?”

“No. I’m not an idiot. They would kill me as soon as they felt the other high scoring tributes beside themselves were dead,” Viktor stated casually.

“You’re actually smart. And here I was starting to think that only nonsense was in that head of yours,” Yakov chuckled before he looked at him seriously, “Viktor, when you get out of there, you are going to need to get to high ground. Look for water if you don’t have any. You studied enough on basic medical care with herbs, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“Be careful if you see any unusual animals and mutts. Most of the time, the weird ones are extremely dangerous. Avoid them if you can. And don’t make campfires at night. You’ll give away your position to any predators and tributes.”

“Got it.”

“And Viktor,” Yakov looked at him.

“I’ll try and see if I can get to Zinnia,” Viktor assured him.

“Just try not to die. And be careful with that girl.”

When the door opened, Viktor covered his eyes trying to block out the sun. He could see a hovercraft in the distance. The realization that this was it had hit him hard in the gut. He turned, dropping his hand as he faced Yakov. He could see a hint of sorrow in those tired gray-blue eyes for a split second. Viktor didn’t know what compelled him to do this, but suddenly, he hugged the old victor. Even though they hadn’t seen eye to eye on most things, for the first time in a long while, it felt as if he had found somebody he could call family with this man.

“I promise,” Viktor looked at him, “also, you can call me Vitya, if you want. My parents called me that.”

“Vitya,” Yakov patted his head, “if you die while you’re there, I will kill you myself.”

Viktor laughed as he felt a tear roll down his face as he nodded, “Keep me alive and you can kill me for being a little shit all week.”

The young tribute looked down, avoiding the sun as he made his way into the hovercraft. When he got inside, he strained his eyes as they adjusted to the sudden change of light. He was led by one of the Capitol citizens to a chair that reclined slightly. There were the other Tributes in their seats already. It looked like he was the last one in the hovercraft. It wasn’t long when they got into the air. They were busy doing whatever it was that they needed to do before they started injecting them with what he guessed was their tracker. It made sense. They needed to keep track of all of them somehow. Maybe their trackers would also activate cameras that they had hidden throughout the entire arena? At this point, he really didn’t care.

Eventually, they landed and everybody was separated again. Viktor was led to a room where he met his Stylist. The man nodded his head when the door slammed behind Viktor.

“Here’s your jacket. Based on the fabric of this jacket, you might be dealing with some rain. But your shirt and pants look like they will let you breathe.”

“I know, based on the training hall, it’s going to be in a forest or woods.”

“You’re a smart kid. I wish you luck,” his stylist stated as he helped him into his jacket, “I really do hope you win this.”

Viktor nodded as he heard a noise. It was time. He felt a wave of nausea hit him suddenly. Whatever confidence he had found yesterday about the chances of him winning this was thrown out the window. He found his entire frame shaking violently. He didn’t want to die.

“Hey, look at me,” his stylist spoke sternly as he placed his hands on his shoulders, “you can do this. If I could bet on who would win, I’d bet my whole career on you. You look like a winner to me and I’m rarely wrong about these things. You got this. Make all of Panem proud.”

Viktor felt his stylist let go of him as he led him to a tube. There was a woman’s voice that started giving a countdown from twenty seconds. He had no more time left. Viktor stepped into the tube and watched as it closed. His anxiety was rising up as he felt the floor on his feet moving up. A sudden brightness engulfed him as his eyes instantly shut for a moment. It didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust, seeing everybody else around the Cornucopia. He was looking at the gear, spotting a sword. If he grabbed it and a bag, he could make it to the tree line before anybody would be the wiser. He was looking around seeing the other tributes. Everybody was spread out. The ones that he was most worried about were the Careers and a couple of boys from the other districts that were either seventeen or eighteen and clearly were built stronger than him. If he faced them right here right now, they would overpower him easily. He needed to be smart about this if he were going to try and bypass the bloodbath and grab some of the gear and weapons at the center.

Icy blue eyes were hyper-focused on the Cornucopia and the timer. As soon as the timer reached zero, Viktor sprinted straight for the center. He had never in his life ran that fast, even when he was in school. He remembered back how he and the other kids in class would race and thanks to how lean his frame was, he would almost always be in first place. But this was different than the simple races of childhood games. This was his life that was on the line. If he failed, then he would be dead.

Viktor was only a meter away from the jackpot before he felt somebody tackle him down. Viktor instantly kicked at the person, thankful to get them off of him. He grabbed the first bag he saw, for a split second seeing who was on the ground. He saw a mass of red hair and green eyes piercing him. He recognized the girl as Victoria. She had talked to him on the second day of training, both of them teasing about how their names were almost identical. He could see that she was about to lung at him before he saw a knife thrown into her head, making her drop instantly. Viktor quickly pulled the knife out of the dead girl, deciding to abort his plan. He had grabbed one of the bags and a weapon. Along the way, he grabbed another bag that was pretty far off from the center as he made it to the tree line.

He didn’t care where he was going. He just needed to get the hell away from them before anybody caught him. What he had just done was perhaps the most idiotic thing ever. He could just picture it now, Yakov screaming until his face was as red and purple as the wine he drank last night. But it worked out in the end. He got a bag that was very close to the Cornucopia and he even got an extra bag and weapon to boot.

Eventually, Viktor slowed down, feeling that he was finally a good distance away from the other tributes. He heard the cannons sounding, knowing that now, the bloodbath was over. He was looking around, trying to see if any trees that would be able to handle his weight were around. He walked until he saw that there were larger trees. He started climbing it until he was up high enough where nobody would notice if they walked by. He was looking at the backpacks. The smaller one he saw had a rope, an empty bottle, with a few pieces of dried meat and crackers. That wasn’t a bad haul so far. He opened the other bag, which was larger and was beaming. He found a couple bottles of water, a utility knife, twine, antiseptic spray, and a sleeping bag.

He brushed his cheek feeling a bit of an itch when he saw his fingers red. Adrenaline was wearing off and his face hurt. He came to the conclusion that he must have gotten hurt during the fight with Victoria. Opening his jacket, he used his shirt and some of the water to clean his face. He then sprayed his cheek, hissing from the sting. But he knew that if he didn’t do that, he was going to have it get infected. And there was no way that he was going to die because somebody stabbed him in the face.

He put the things back in the larger bag. He was debating if he should keep the smaller bag. Ultimately, he decided to keep it, throwing it in the larger bag so he wasn’t as conspicuous. Viktor started climbing back down. He knew that he was going to have to start moving again. He needed to make sure that he was a step ahead of the other tributes. Maybe he would get lucky and stumble upon Zinnia if she was still alive.

Viktor didn’t know how long he had been walking, but he eventually did see another tribute. He took a deep breath as he inched closer. They were alone, from what he gathered and they even had things with them. The tribute, he quickly realized was surrounded by what looked like large wolves. Viktor climbed a tree quickly, not wanting for the wolves to pick up that he was around yet, even though chances were they would have already sensed him.

He watched closely, seeing the tribute a little closer. He still couldn’t figure out which district tribute they were but he watched as the boy started swearing up a storm. Before Viktor even realized it, he saw the young boy throw a rock at one of the wolves. And they attacked. Viktor turned his head, covering his eyes as he tried to not see them tearing the boy apart. The boy’s screams made him feel as if he were about to lose his lunch. He wanted to help him, but he found his body completely frozen from fear. It wasn’t long before he heard the cannon go off and the wolves were now looking at the tree he was up.

Viktor cursed to himself quietly. He was stuck here until they got bored and left. He continued watching them, noticing that they were wagging their tails excitedly. The more he looked at the wolves, the more he started noticing weird things. Like how none of them were really that wolf-like. They were behaving more like dogs more than anything else. He spotted one of the dogs, who seemed to be the pack leader. A very beautiful chocolate brown dog that reached his chin. Their fur looked almost as soft as a cloud. Slowly, he made his way back down, walking up to the giant mutt.

Viktor was holding his breath as he inched closer. He touched the brown giant dog’s fur and suddenly felt a large wet tongue on his arm before they pinned him. Viktor shut his eyes tightly, prepared to die the same way as the other tribute when suddenly he felt a very large and very wet tongue on his face.

Viktor let out a gasp as he started laughing. The mutt was friendly.

“Hey come on, that tickles,” Viktor laughed as he pushed the dog off playfully.

The dog seemed to take a hint and got off the silver-haired teen. Viktor was petting the fluffy brown fur. He was surprised by how soft it was. It was perhaps one of the softest things he had ever felt in his life. And for it to be a giant dog that behaved more like a puppy.

He had always wanted a dog. But having a pet was a luxury that most people in District Twelve were too poor for, himself included. This was perhaps the best thing to ever happen in the Hunger Games. Friendly animals that wouldn’t try to eat his face? All he had to do was just not attack them and he’d be set.

Viktor inspected the giant brown fluffy dog, realizing fairly quickly that they were a very pretty girl dog. He had decided to name her Makkachin, and she seemed to accept the name with no problem. Throughout the day, he walked with the giant dog, petting her fur as they traveled. When it was time for him to eat, he would bite a piece of jerky and tossing a cracker to Makkachin. He was happy seeing her enjoying it. Viktor eventually made camp when he found a water source nearby. He could see that it was already getting late and he would have to set up camp for the night. He didn’t have to make a campfire for the time being, which was good. He started making a few snares around the area, deciding to check them in the morning. Hopefully, he would be able to catch something.

He would just have to be careful since he was alone. He was debating if he should go up a tree or if he would be able to trust the dogs to keep watch. Even though they seemed pretty friendly, he decided for tonight he would go up a tree. He found a nice sturdy tree and started climbing. Once he was a good height up, he opened his bag and brought out his sleeping bag and rope. He got in his sleeping bag and tied the rope around himself and the tree so he wouldn’t fall out.

Suddenly, the anthem of Panem began to play. Viktor was looking up to the sky to see those that had died today. Most of the people had died from the bloodbath and during the day, that one boy died from Makka. District Three’s female tribute died. It was a shame. Even though he didn’t speak to her, she seemed like a nice girl. She was a really small girl. She couldn’t have been no older than thirteen. Then both of District Five’s tributes were shown. The girl from that district had creeped him out. She looked as if she were either about to snap a man in half or try to eat a bowl of nightlock berries. Her tribute partner was always there comforting her, an older boy that looked older than himself. He wondered if maybe he died too while trying to protect her. And then District Six’s female tribute’s face had shone. He remembered talking to her with District Three’s female tribute. She had introduced herself as Florida. She had been really nice to him and he had even shown her how to make a snare without any twine. The boy who was killed by Makka and her pack appeared. He was from District Seven. Shortly after, his tribute partner, Victoria appeared. Then the Young boy from Eight popped up. Viktor’s heart went out to him and his family. They were only twelve years old. Just at Reaping age. He knew well enough that he wasn’t going to make it. He was too young. Viktor was surprised by the amount of death that occurred. And it was still going, already showing both Tributes for District Nine. Then, the final death, the boy from District Ten, who he too was maybe twelve or thirteen years old. And then, the announcement was gone.

Almost half of the Tributes were dead. This was already an intense Hunger Games. But he was pleased that Zinnia was still alive. Viktor yawned a bit before he went to sleep. He hoped that he would be able to find Zinnia tomorrow.

Viktor stirred awake as he saw that it was really dark. It was either still really late at night or dawn would be upon him soon. He looked down to see that Makkachin and her pack were still down. Some of the dogs were already awake. He untied himself and started putting his things up before he started climbing down the tree. By the time he got down, he saw Makka stretching, yawning widely.

“Morning girl,” Viktor patted her soft fur. “We got a long day ahead of us.”

The big dog barked at Viktor playfully as she started following him to his traps. He was pleased that he had caught some squirrels and a rabbit. The meat wasn’t much, but it would be good for now. He could see it now, back home the peacekeepers trying to figure out how the actual hell he learned how to hunt so fast. There was no way in hell that he should have learned how to do things like this so quickly.

He threw the dead animals in his bag as he started walking around aimlessly. He was still careful in not going the direction towards the Cornucopia. That was where the Careers were. And it wouldn’t work out for him if they caught him.

Viktor was walking for a while until the sun started rising. It was raining on and off throughout the morning. He put his hoodie up as it continued raining. When it finally started clearing up, he started looking for some dry material for a fire. After a while, he had found enough things to make a fire, happy that it was dry enough to even catch fire. Once he had the fire starting, he was skinning and gutting the animals. Viktor tossed the trash parts over to Makka and the other dogs, Makka was happily chewing one of the rabbit’s ears.

Viktor was about to start eating when he heard a twig snap. Makka started growling deeply which surprised Viktor. He brought out his knife in case he would have to kill.

“Viktor,” a familiar voice rang, “we’re so happy we found you.”

Zinnia revealed herself along with Kenji. He felt a deep blush settle over himself as he started motioning for Makka to settle down. They looked a little unsettled with the dogs here, but Viktor paid no mind.

“I thought that you were going to be with the Careers,” Viktor looked at Kenji.

“Na, they’re a bunch of backstabbers. Don’t want to deal with them.”

“Viktor, I holy crap, what happened to your face?”

“The Bloodbath. Victoria, that girl from Seven tackled me to the ground. I think she slashed me during the fight. That girl from Two threw a throwing knife at her. Got the knife and some stuff and bounced.”

“Same. Didn’t get too close to the center because Yakov told me to just get one bag and run off if I could. Met Kenji here last night after one of the packs of dogs attacked us. We got lucky by staying in one of the trees.”

“How are they not attacking you?” Kenji asked.

Viktor could see Makka was looking at both of them darkly. It was terrifying. Maybe she could smell that pack on them? For now, she seemed to tolerate them because of him. But at least he knew now that if it came down to it, he would have Makka and the packs on his side.

“They’re really friendly so long as you don’t attack them,” Viktor stated as he started petting Makka.

“Hey,” Zinnia smiled as she attempted to pet one of the dogs.

The dog growled deeply, giving her the hint to back off before they tore her hand off. Viktor rolled his eyes as he continued to mess with her fur, scratching her side vigorously. He laughed as she started shaking her leg like mad. She really was a sweetheart.

Kenji sat next to Viktor at the fire. Viktor had offered both of them meat, which they eagerly accepted. They were talking about what they did their first day out. Which, besides the bloodbath and the dogs, was rather uneventful.

Once they had finished, Viktor put out the fire. He had gathered dried up leaves in case he needed to make a fire. The group started traveling, sharing some of their food with each other. Throughout the day, they did hear cannons, knowing that some more people died.

Eventually, they did make camp. Viktor, Zinnia, and Kenji decided that they would sleep on the ground. Makka was snuggling close to Viktor as he took the first watch. Before the others went to bed, they saw the announcement for those who were now dead, Kenji’s District partner and the girl from Eight. The night was cool and pleasant. But it surprised him when after a couple of hours, Kenji was awake.

Both of them were talking about what it was like back home.

“Do you have anybody back home?” Kenji asked.

“Not really.”

“You’re joking. You’re a nice-looking guy. I’m sure there’s a girl that likes you back home.”

“I’m gay,” Viktor sighed as he blushed, “I was too busy trying to survive back home instead of finding a cute guy.”

Kenji placed his hand on his cheek softly, a smile on his face, “I’m gay too. And I really want to kiss you. But I get it if you don’t want to.”

Viktor leaned in, nervously. He had never kissed anybody before. He really couldn’t believe that he was about to have his first kiss. And have it broadcasted live for the world to see. But the Capitol would est this up. They loved the whole tragic love angle plus he figured that this would help him with getting more sponsors which meant his life would be saved.

Viktor felt soft lips press against his. He let out a small whimper as he felt a bit of tongue. The simple kiss seemed to morph into a make-out session as he felt Kenji pull his ponytail down. Viktor let his hands travel across his body, studying his body. Viktor pulled away after a while, face flushed red, lips swollen from the bites. He looked at Kenji, completely helpless as he looked into those deep brown eyes. He could see the light blush across his face along with every single freckle that was spread across his face. Hair messy from the day, but somehow still looked nice.

“You should go back to sleep,” Viktor whispered, worried that they might wake up Zinnia. 

Kenji nodded before he kissed Viktor again, telling him to wake him up for his shift.

Yesterday nobody had died. Today, all three of them were coughing and trying to get out of the forest. The last two days, it had been so insanely hot. The bottles of water he had were long gone and he had been using the river to get clean drinking water with everybody else. Viktor was terrified that they would be caught in the fire. During the chaos of it all, he was separated from Kenji and Zinnia.

Viktor’s eyes grew huge when one of the trees fell nearly on top of him. One of the branches hit his arm. He let out a strangled gasp as he pushed through the sudden pain. Makkachin was with him, she was nosing his leg as he tried moving faster. The pain just wouldn’t leave his mind. He looked at Makka before a sudden realization hit him. Maybe he was light enough for him to ride her.

“Hey girl, let me see if I can do this,” Viktor whispered as he started petting her.

Viktor climbed on top of the giant brown fluffball, holding onto her fur as tightly as he could. Suddenly, like the wind, Makka was off. She was flying through the wooded area until little by little, the fire seemed to be further away from them. When Makka had finally stopped running, Viktor let go of her.

The silver-haired teen looked at his arm, his stomach dropped when he saw it. It was bad. Really bad. The pain was a lot, but that was a good thing. It meant that his nerves weren’t destroyed. Looking at it, it seemed like they were second-degree burns. He wasn’t sure if his antiseptic spray would even work for this kind of injury.

Viktor looked around, seeing Kenji and Zinnia. He called out for them, relieved that they found each other again.

“Holy crap, Viktor,” Zinnia looked at his arm.

“Let’s just move on. It’s getting late,” Viktor sighed.

“Viktor we need to treat your arm.”

“It’s fine. We’ll deal with it when we get out of here. The Gamemakers started this fire because they wanted to get some of the tributes together. I guess two other tributes met up and they’re fighting right now,” Viktor felt some tears streaming down his cheeks from the pain.

“You’re hurting,” Kenji stated.

“I’ll be okay. Let’s just move,” Viktor reassured him.

The day continued, Viktor’s arm continued hurting throughout the day. He was glad that for the most part, the day was uneventful. They made camp when it got dark. They watched the night sky, seeing that both of the tributes for Eleven were dead. He wondered if it was because they tried to fight each other or if it was because of the fire.

After a while, they all just looked at each other before another announcement came. Telling them about how they all needed something desperately. They needed food, water, and medical supplies. That was a given. But would the things be worth it when this was going to be considered the Bloodbath Part Two?

“Should we go?” Viktor asked.

“Yes,” Kenji stated bluntly, “the rest of the Careers will be there. Even some of the other Tributes will be desperate enough. If we go, we can let them kill off some of the weaker ones and pick off the Careers that weren’t being too careful. All of the other Tributes have attacked the dogs. Viktor, you’re the only one who hasn’t. We can use that to our advantage.”

“How?”

“Look at Makka,” Zinnia stated as she got a little closer to Viktor.

Immediately, he took notice of how Makka was behaving. Her ears were back and she was starting to show her teeth.

“See, she views you as part of her pack. She only tolerates us because she senses that you are alright with us. Bring the pack with you, and I bet that we can take down a couple of people easily. They wouldn’t know what hit them.”

“But I don’t want anything bad to happen to them,” Viktor whispered as he scratched behind Makka’s ear.

“It’s a risk,” Kenji sighed, “but we need you to make this plan work.”

“Alright.”

“Well, let’s get some sleep. We need to be at the Cornucopia before morning.”

Viktor watched his group sleeping soundly. He couldn’t sleep even if he tried right now. His arm was hurting too much. He looked at the night sky, trying hard not to cry.

“Yakov, please, if you can get me something for my arm, I’d really appreciate it,” he chuckled.

He looked at the sky and chuckled as he heard a beeping sound. He saw the sponsor gift land gently on his lap. All he had to do was ask and Yakov answered him.

“Yakov, if I ask for that stew they served us that night in the apartment will you send that too?” Viktor laughed.

He wasn’t going to lie, but part of him did hope that Yakov actually did send him some food. But it never came.

“It was worth a shot,” Viktor laughed, betting that Yakov was probably shouting at him.

He opened his gift, seeing a note on it. He smiled as he read:

For cuts and burns. Don’t die.

-Y

Viktor grabbed the jar in the capsule, opening it to see a white ointment. He put his fingers in it and applied it to his burn. Immediately, the pain stopped. He sighed in relief, wanting to cry as the searing hot pain was dulled immensely.

“Thank you, Yakov. I know you hate me, but thank you,” Viktor sighed.

Viktor woke up, pleased that his burn was doing a lot better now. He had applied the ointment on his injuries, feeling so much better now. They had no more food, most of it lost in the fire. He was petting Makkachin as he made his way to one of his traps. He didn’t have as much luck as the previous days. This time only catching a rabbit. But it was better than nothing.

By the time he had come back, he saw that Kenji had brought back a couple of fish while Zinnia had brought back a bunch of fruits, nuts, and other plants that they could eat. Viktor started the campfire as he started cooking some of the meat. He wished that they had some kind of pot to boil water. They could have had a rabbit and fish stew. But this would work just as well.

Once they had eaten, they tore down their camp and started traveling. Viktor was walking by Makkachin’s side. They were all still tired but they pressed to the Cornucopia. Hoping that they would make it on time. The Feast was something Viktor was nervous about still. He knew that their idea was a solid plan, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. He didn’t want to risk Makka’s family.

The sun was finally appearing by the time that they reached their destination. Most likely, the Careers would already be there waiting for any of the tributes. There were six Districts left. Viktor was trying to remember who was left. One and Two both still had their tributes and then it was him and Zinnia and Kenji, which made Twelve and Four respectively. Seven people. There were just three people he couldn’t remember.

The things didn’t pop up yet. Viktor felt so nervous as they waited. But it didn’t seem that they had to wait long. Viktor felt as if he was holding his breath when the bags were revealed from the ground. Six bags were resting on a table, all of them the same size. None of them knew how long it was for those things to just be out in the open. Kenji was about to take a step when Viktor had put his hand up. He pointed to the left of them, seeing a tribute worse for wear. Her long flowing hair made her look like she was on fire. The girl grabbed two bags, Viktor shocked by her doing that. But then he saw her fall with a sudden painful yelp as two of the four Careers appeared. Viktor realized what was happening. The large male tribute, which he recognized as Atlas. Viktor could see that, like Kenji, Atlas also had a sword. He watched with sickening horror on his face as he watched the girl begging for her life get stabbed the sword, her cannon instantly sounding. Atlas was starting to walk away when suddenly another Tribute bolted out of nowhere. Viktor couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. The female Career had her back turned as if to follow her fellow Career when another tribute bum-rushed her, stabbing her. She fell instantly as her cannon sounded. He grabbed the bags and was off to the tree line before Atlas could rush back over along with the other three Careers.

“Now’s our best chance to get the dogs on them,” Zinnia whispered.

Viktor whistled, and immediately the Makka and their pack burst from the tree line. Viktor smirked as he saw the look of horror on their faces as a large pack of giant dogs had their teeth bared and ready for them.

“Alright, Zinnia, you head over there and get our stuff. Viktor and I will cover you,” Kenji spoke sternly.

Zinnia nodded as she started heading through the tree line. As soon as they saw her break out of the line, they did the same. Viktor had his knife in hand while they got into the fight. Viktor and Kenji going for Cicero, the Tribute he had beat in the wrestling match. Kenji slashed at his chest and Viktor, with his utility knife, stabbing him through the eye. Twisting the knife before Cicero fell dead before him, a cannon sounding.

Viktor saw that another one of the Tributes had tried to take advantage of the chaos, but Atlas had just pulled his sword out of his skull as another cannon sounded for this Tribute’s death. One of the dogs lunged at the hulk of a Tribute, but they too met the same fate as the other Tributes that faced him.

The silver-haired teen saw Zinnia already reaching the treeline. Viktor whistled and both Kenji and Viktor bolted out of the Cornucopia. They managed to get to the clearing. Viktor gave a long whistle and the remaining dogs retreated. He saw Makkachin rushing towards him, seeing her fur matted red with blood. He was unsure if it was hers or a tribute.

Once they were away from the new Bloodbath caused by the feast, Viktor hugged Makkachin, checking to see if she had any injuries. Thankfully, she was alright. But it hurt him deeply when he realized that almost the entire pack had been slaughtered. It looked like Makkachin was the only one left.

“I’m so sorry, girl,” Viktor whispered.

“So what did you get?” Kenji asked Zinnia.

“I got our bags plus District Six’s bag,” Zinnia had a sly grin on her face.

“Why would you take another District’s bag?” Viktor was shocked.

“That big lug from District Two was fighting the idiot. I grabbed the bag because he was going to get killed by him and look at what happened,” Zinnia pointed out, “I grabbed it. After all, you know that the Careers would have taken all of the bags from the dead tributes. So why not take it when the owner of the bag won’t miss it anymore. But Viktor, if you want to ask him and the hovercrafts haven’t taken him, you can ask him yourself if we can keep the bag.”

Viktor rolled his eyes before they started looking at the contents. Food and medicine were in their bags. Throwing knives and some food was in Six’s bag. All in all, not a bad haul.

When night came, they had camp ready. They watched the Fallen. Cicero from One. The girl from Two. Viktor was thankful that the two of the Careers were dead. But he knew that Atlas was still alive. The boy from Six appeared in the sky, and finally the girl from Ten. He looked at his hands. His stomach was twisting into knots. It had just hit him. He killed somebody. He ended a person’s life.

Viktor stood up suddenly announcing that he needed to go pee. He walked in the direction not too far from where they had decided would be the place where they would relieve themselves. When he felt like he was a good way off from them, he burst into tears, trying desperately to keep the contents of his stomach from leaving. He could still see Cicero’s blood on his hands. He killed him. He actually killed him.

The boy from Twelve was shaking as grief wrecked him. He knew that he would have to kill eventually. Rarely did anybody in the games not kill after a certain point. But it horrified him all the same. When he finally calmed down enough, he started making his way back. He was about to announce his presence when he heard both Zinnia and Kenji talking.

“We need to kill him tonight,” Kenji spat, “I hate how he keeps fucking looking at me like some school girl. It’s gross.”

“He has a crush on you,” Zinnia chuckled.

“I’m not gay, you know that.”

“Play a little longer,” Zinnia purred, “but not tonight. We can get him to use the mutt on one of the Careers again, that girl.”

Viktor saw Kenji place his hand over Zinnia’s back, slowly creeping down to her ass and thigh. He watched as they kissed, a smile on Keji’s face. They were playing him. 

“I’m fucking tired. If he tries to fucking kiss me one more time, I’m going to snap his fucking neck.”

“Pretend that Viktor’s a girl. He’s got long enough hair to pass as one,” Zinnia laughed.

“You kiss a girl, then.”

“You would like that, now, wouldn’t you?” Zinnia snickered.

“What would he like?” Viktor decided that now would be the perfect time for him to interrupt them.

He could see Kenji looking a little surprised along with Zinnia when he returned. Viktor was playing it cool. As much as he wanted to just scream at both of them, he didn’t. They were going to try and kill him. Zinnia suggested tomorrow night, and Kenji seemed to begrudgingly agree. He felt disgusted with himself as he continued acting like a “school girl” with Kenji. After a while, they decided to crash for the night. Viktor had decided to take the first shift, like always.

When he saw that they were both asleep, he was debating with himself. They had put him in a corner. Either he needed to kill them tonight, or he would die. He was breathing heavily, trying to keep himself calm. He was trying not to cry as he attempted to keep his resolve. Viktor had his knife in his hand. He looked at Makkachin who was wagging her tail at him.

He got up, his face drained of emotion. He made his choice. He looked at Kenji and Zinnia. A wave of anger washed over him. The same kind of anger that crashed against him when he spoke with his aunt and uncle. It felt like a lifetime ago. They were treating him the same way his aunt and uncle did. Using him for their own survival. Taking and taking and taking. He was done. No more.

Viktor, with hardened eyes, made his way to Kenji. He whistled and Makkachin lunged at Zinnia right as he jumped Kenji. He could hear their screams. Makkachin biting at his District partner. He heard the cannon that signaled Zinnia’s death.

Kenji was still fighting, trying to protect his face from the knife. Viktor wasn’t sure who was screaming. Him or Kenji. Every kiss. Every touch. It was a lie from this water snake. Kenji grew weaker. Viktor was winning. Brown petrified eyes gazed back at his dead blue ones.

“Viktor,” Kenji coughed up blood, “why?”

“You were going to kill me,” he cried as he continued stabbing him.

Viktor stabbed him. And he stabbed him. He felt his mind go blank. He knew that the cannon had already gone off for Kenji. But he couldn’t stop. He just stabbed him continuously.

Then Makkachin licked his face. Viktor, still straddled on the dead body of his first crush, lost it. He cried hard as he dropped the knife, clinging to Kenji. He couldn’t even recognize his face anymore. Kenji’s face and neck looked as if it were swiss cheese. Viktor, after he had finished crying, he got up from Kenji. He dug through his bag, finding supplies that he would need. He looked at the sword and took it. He then walked over to Zinnia, her eyes wide open, her neck with a huge bite taken out as her face had deep marks. He looked through her bag, shocked when he saw a bow and a quiver of arrows in her bag. He never saw her with those before. He had no use for them. He didn’t know how to use them. He left them on her body. Just in case if the Careers did come over. He knew that as soon as he left, the hovercraft would take those two out of the game along with anything they had on them. He grabbed whatever things she had in her bag and threw them into his.

Viktor walked towards Makkachin, petting her gently before mounting her.

“We need to leave, girl. The Careers might head over here.”

During the night, another cannon had shot. It was just him and the two careers left. This wasn’t the most ideal situation. But it was either his time being up or theirs. It was early morning when he and Makkachin finally stopped. He was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. He just wanted to go to sleep. But if it was just three tributes left, chances were, the Gamekeepers were not going to give them too much time to rest.

They were at a stream Viktor recognized from the first days of the game. He saw his reflection. He was completely covered in blood. Kenji’s blood. He started cupping the water with his hands as he tried to clean himself. But it did him no good. He felt as if he couldn’t get it off him. Even though he could see his skin clean, he was still covered in their blood. He couldn’t get Cicero’s, Kenji’s, and Zinnia’s blood off of him. He scrubbed until his skin was red and raw. But it would never be enough.

The morning sky got dark suddenly, Makkachin was growling.

“Hey girl,” Viktor whispered as he brushed her fur, “It looks like it’s time. I want you to stay here. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Makkachin suddenly let out a whimper as she licked his face.

“Here, you go, Makkachin. You deserved it,” he pulled out a whole rabbit, giving it to her.

As he saw her chomping on the rabbit, he gave her a kiss on the top of her head. He left the giant fluffy dog as he started making his way to the Cornucopia. The dogs in the woods were going crazy, from what he could hear. But they didn’t bother him. He figured that the Gamemasters never expected for a Tribute to actually realize that they were friendly.

Viktor heard a cannon go off. He hoped that it was Atlas’s. He had a better chance of taking on the girl from One than he did with Atlas. Viktor finally reached the Cornucopia as he saw Atlas appearing shortly after. He cursed to himself as he saw the large beast of a Tribute reaching the clearing.

Atlas saw him. His stomach dropped as he saw an ox of a man Atlas was rushed towards him. Viktor was trying his best to try and avoid him. If he could get him tired, maybe he could beat him. Viktor was trying to dodge his attacks as best as he could. The Career tribute was amazing with the sword. There was no way he would be able to outclass him.

Viktor screamed internally when Atlas landed a hit to his leg. Viktor fell on his back. Viktor pulled out his knife, stabbing Atlas on the side before he kicked him in the groin. Viktor didn’t care if he played dirty. This wasn’t exactly a fair fight to begin with. He tried to get up but felt his foot being grabbed.

“You fucking shit!” Atlas roared.

Viktor kicked hard enough to make the other lose his grip on him. This wasn’t good. He needed to think fast. His mind was drawing in a blank. He was going to die. He was so close. But he wouldn’t be making it. He looked at Atlas again, this time he could see a wild smile on his face.

“Twelve, I’m going to end you,” he was grinning, “you have been acting like a little shit since the first day we got here. Acting like you had this in the bag. But look at you now. You look like you’re about to piss yourself. You got any last words?”

“If you’re going to kill me, do it quickly, asshole.”

Viktor was scared shitless as he said those words. He felt a sharp pain across his neck. This asshole was going to watch him drown in his own blood as his eyes were wide with horror. He felt cold. This was death. He was so close. He couldn’t let it end like this. He grabbed at his own neck as he tried to stop the bleeding. Atlas was laughing until suddenly a large brown blur came into his vision. Makkachin. She lunged at Atlas, biting at his neck as she knocked him off him. But he heard a yelp that terrified him as the sound of a cannon went off. Viktor struggled to crawl as he made his way to Makkachin. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the dog impaled by the sword. Her breathing labored. He didn’t care at this point. He made his way to Makkachin, petting her. He felt her lick his hand as he felt a soft smile spread across his face.

She was dying. Just like him. He killed so many people during this Hunger Game. Maybe it was fitting that he die here too…

Viktor bolted upright when he had awoken. The area was completely alien to him. His anxiety spiked even higher when he saw tubes and needles poking and prodding him. He started tearing them off before people started pinning him down. He was screaming. Demanding and begging for them to let him go. But as quickly as the tantrum came, it left when he saw Yakov.

“Vitya,” he spoke almost gently.

“Where am I?”

“In the Capitol. They took you to the hospital where you had emergency surgery. They almost lost you.”

“What happened?”

“The boy that cut your throat didn’t cut as deep as he thought. You’re lucky to be alive. If that dog,” Yakov was interrupted.

“Makkachin, I named her Makkachin.”

“Yes, Makkachin. If Makkachin didn’t get there when she did, you wouldn’t have been the victor for this year’s games.”

“I won?” Viktor looked at Yakov confused.

He was shocked to even hear this news. Of course, he won. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be sitting in this bed talking to him.

“Zinnia,” Viktor whispered.

“Was a very cunning girl.”

“She could have won,” Viktor whispered.

“She might have. She was good at manipulating you and that boy. She was planning on having both of you do her dirty work before having him kill you. Most likely have that boy fight the boy from Two and then just finish off whoever was left with her bow and arrows.”

“How did she get those?”

“She got them from the boy. He grabbed his weapon, hers, and some gear. They both had an alliance from the very beginning, it would seem.”

“I see,” Viktor looked out the window.

“You should get your rest, Vitya. Tomorrow, you have your interview.”

“Do I have to go?” Viktor looked at Yakov.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

All Viktor could hear were screams. The face of that Victoria who had tried to kill him within the first five minutes of the game. Cicero’s dark eyes glazed over as the life left him long ago. Kenji’s mutilated face looking at him accusingly. Zinnia’s petrified stair frozen for all eternity. Every single tribute in this game looking at him. Screaming, moaning, gurgling at him. Murderer. He killed them. He killed them because he was alive and they were not. He felt as if he were drowning. The taste of metal strangling him. Their blood. It was on him. He couldn’t get it off him.

He was screaming, the lights turned on as he pulled at his own hair. He saw them in this dark room. He knew he did. They blamed him. He killed all of them. Every single one.

“Viktor,” Yakov rushed over to him.

And he cried on the older man, shaking as if he were a dead leaf clinging on before the harsh autumn wind blew him away. No amount of comfort could reach him. He still couldn’t understand why he was alive? Why? He should have died. This was a fluke.

“Shhh, Vitya, it’s alright. You’re safe. Nobody can hurt you now.”

“I’m a monster. I killed them,” he whispered, “all of them. I killed them. How can I not be a monster?”

“Viktor, you did everything you could to survive. Their deaths are not on your hands. Every single one of those deaths are not yours. You killed to survive. You didn't do it because you wanted to.”

Viktor didn’t believe him.

The rest of the night, he tried to sleep. He was thankful that their faces didn’t continue to torment him. But when he woke up, he was greeted to a large breakfast that he really didn’t want to eat. His stomach was still in knots. Yakov forced him to drink water before Viktor was taken away.

When he was with his stylist and their team, he knew what would happen. They were going to pluck him like a turkey all over again. But he didn’t really care. His mind was elsewhere for now. He needed to play his part. He needed to act like he was happy to be there. That he did see all of the Capitol as his actual family. With how they behaved, they basically were. Using him for their own enjoyment.

His stylist had put him in a suit that looked like a stylized uniform of Panem. Tassels all over the place along with ropes of gold. The color of magenta and pinks were the main focus. It bothered him. The color. It was red in the end. He had seen enough red to last him multiple lifetimes.

Viktor smiled brightly as he made it on stage. Just moments ago, Antony was boasting about the great achievements Viktor had while in the games. But they really weren’t, in his eyes. Winning the games wasn’t an achievement. Those were blemishes that would scar him for the rest of his life.

“So, Viktor,” Antony was shaking his hand after they both sat down, “tell me. How do you feel about winning the games?”

“Amazing. I wanted to thank the Gamemakers for their ingenuity. There were some moments during the game that I really did think that they almost had me.”

“Can you name one?”

“Oh, that would be the fire. I was worried that I would smell like a pot roast for the rest of the games,” Viktor lied smoothly, pleased when he saw the audience laughing along with him, “Antony, I know it’s a little unconventional, but I’m very self-conscious about it. Do I still smell like I was burned?”

Antony took a quick whiff before laughing, “You smell like, oh, is that apple blossoms? And a hint of musk? You smell wonderful, don’t smell anything singed on you.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Viktor chuckled, wanting to die on the inside.

“But Viktor, we wanted to show you your story in this year’s Hunger Games. It’s an incredible story of love and betrayal. You had us on the edge of our seats the entire time!”

Viktor gulped a little. He knew that the Capitol would do this. They did it every year. They were turning his trauma into bite-sized digestible format for their amusement. As much as he wanted to scream in disgust at all of them, he nodded, acting as if he were genuinely curious at what they were going to show him.

The stage faded to dark as the Panem anthem started. It had started with Celestino reading from a slip of paper, his booming voice calling for Zinnia’s. And then to his name, both of them shaking hands before it suddenly cut to his and Zinnia’s parade. It cut to Atlas’s dirty look aimed at him along with Kenji looking at them, or maybe he was looking more at Zinnia. The film then took them to the arena in an almost dizzying way. He saw himself looking at the Cornucopia, Zinnia looking at Kenji before they both nodded, and then everybody was off. They showed how Victoria had tackled him, realizing that he had got the cut on his face, not from Victoria, but from the girl from Two who had thrown one of her knives missing the girl from Seven and only grazing him before she threw another knife, ending Victoria’s life. The film made it a point to show just how dire Viktor had felt as he ran with some supplies. He didn’t even realize that the girl from Two was trying to kill him before she gave up. And then they showed the faces of every Tribute that died in the Bloodbath. Some looked as if they were sleeping still. Others looked as if they were in an actual horror film.

The movie faded back to Viktor as he saw the boy from Seven being torn apart from the dog pack. Makkachin biting at his face. And then when he realized how they were friendly and showed scenes throughout the entire Games of him playing around and giving affection to Makka. It broke his heart. He knew that she didn’t survive. She was innocent in all of this. Forced in an arena where humans were just as cruel to her. She was the only thing in that arena that kept him sane.

The film faded to black as it reemerged with Zinnia and Kenji. Both of them looked like they were nude. His stomach knotted, as he realized he was about to discover just how deep both of their betrayals would go. Both of them talking about how they would find a way to take down the other tributes, Viktor included before what looked like they were about to go another round. Viktor wanted to look away. He wanted to cover his ears. He was thankful that they didn’t show what they were actually doing, but he could hear the pleasure of their voices making it crystal clear as to what they were doing.

The movie continued on cutting to the kills. The boy from Six killing the girl from Eight and the Career Pack females getting into a huge fight that ended in the Girl from District One brutally stabbing Brooke, the girl from Kenji’s district. The film showed while Viktor was away from them, how she had revealed to Kenji that Viktor was gay and how she could tell that he had a huge crush on him. They were originally going to kill him but decided not to when they saw that the dogs were friendly with him. She felt that she could use that to her advantage.

And then the night when he had his first kiss. He could hear the Capitol citizens hooting whistling over the young love. He felt so disgusted by it. This boy played him. He really did like him and was angry with him. He lied to him. He used him. It hurt.

Then, the fire. He could hear the screams of torment from both of Eleven’s Tributes. They were burned to death. He felt like he was going to lose whatever little he had in his stomach as their skin charred and bubbled. And then it cut to him, his arm looking really bad.

More of Zinnia and Kenji’s planes and sexcapades right after they had finished making out. Kenji just completely went off at how disgusted he was that he needed to seduce another boy. Zinnia teasing Kenji about how he was kissing him more than her. Viktor huffed as he watched this, realizing how much of a third wheel he was for those two.

And then the announcement for the Feast. All three of them reaching the Cornucopia. The bloodbath starting as Viktor got the giant dogs to attack them. He saw how they killed each of the Tributes. Cicero’s eyes losing the light of life followed. How Makka’s pack was almost completely whipped out.

The night came in the film as they showed Viktor having his breakdown. And then him listening to their conversation about how they were planning to murder him. He could see the look on his face as he appeared to be horrified. The film changed to Viktor playing with his knife. Viktor felt unnerved as his face suddenly changed. That was the moment he had decided that he would kill them. His face was devoid of emotion as he started straddling Kenji, his movements careful in not waking him before he whistled and started stabbing Kenji. Zinnia was flailing around as Makka mauled her, begging for it to stop, knowing that it would end once she was dead. Kenji desperately trying to defend himself. But ultimately failing.

“Viktor why?”

Viktor was violently shaking. Hearing Kenji’s voice trembling. He knew that he was going to die. And all Viktor could say was that he was going to kill him if he didn’t. Viktor felt his face blanch as he watched himself continuously stab the boy. His cannon already sounded off. The film faded to black as the continual stabbing sounds pushed on until Viktor heard his own heart-wrenching voice as it broke in strangled sobs.

And then the sky was dark as it introduced Atlas and the girl from District One being chased by the dogs. He saw how she was starting to run faster than him. He pulled the blonde girl by her hair as he almost flung her to the dogs. Viktor was horrified as he saw the look on her face, the realization of the betrayal.

Viktor closed his eyes as he knew that they were going to have the final battle be as epic as possible. He opened his eyes at the worst possible moment. He had been slashed by the sword. Atlas and him having the last bit of their fight. He slit his throat. Viktor knew that he should be dead. But then Makkachin had appeared, following him to her death. Viktor felt tears silently fall. He really loved that dog. She was the only girl that had ever stolen his heart.

A cannon sounded and Viktor watched himself on the screen as his pale figure struggled to make his way to Makkachin. She was whimpering as he petted her. He saw how she was licking his hand as he saw his heart-shaped smile before he passed out.

The lights came back on and Antony gave him a moment before continuing, “Wow, very powerful.”

Viktor nodded, not because of the reasons Antony gave, but because he felt as if he were reliving all of that nightmare again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to do that,” Viktor apologized.

“Oh, I cried too when I first saw this. How do you feel knowing the truth about Kenji and Zinnia’s plot? We saw that you were a little infatuated with him.”

“Yeah, I liked him. But everybody was trying to su−,” Viktor was about to say survive, but quickly took that back, knowing that he was still playing a role, “everybody was trying to win this year’s Hunger Game.”

“Well, give it up to this year’s victor of the 114th annual Hunger Games, District Twelve’s Viktor Nikiforov!”

Eleven years had passed. So many children he watched die in these bloody Games for the Capitol’s entertainment. After Yakov had died, Viktor had lost himself even more. When it was Reaping time, he wished Yakov was still around. In the old man's final years, both of them found themselves drinking together to oblivion. It dulled the pain of the deaths they would see. He remembered how Yakov forced him to tag along with being a mentor. That boy was the same age as him. He was infatuated and watched as both that boy and the girl were slaughtered in the first five minutes of the Game. That was the first time he had a drink. The rest was history. He learned from Yakov not to get too attached to the Tributes. Why bother when they would most likely never come back home?

This year’s Hunger Games though was different. The Quarter Quell. The 125th Hunger Games to be specific. When he watched as the Capital announced how those who would partake in it would be from the ages of 5 to 80, the victor looked at the projection with slight confusion. Viktor, at first, wasn't sure if he was too drunk or not drunk enough when he heard that. He was laughing until all he could do was cry. The only thing he did was continue drinking afterward. What was the point? The poor bastards that would be thrown into this game were going to die anyway.

Viktor was on stage as he watched Celestino choose the names. The first one, Axel Nishigori. Viktor saw the screens as they focused on a little girl in pigtails, a simple white blouse, and a purple skirt. She couldn’t be no more than seven. He could see a woman screaming and sobbing, a friend or family holding her back as the peacekeepers hadn’t intervened yet. Viktor sighed. It wasn’t like they would be winning anyway. Poor kid was going to die in the Bloodbath. A snowball in Hell would stand a better chance.

Celestino called out another name. Another child around that girl’s age. Viktor really didn’t know how to handle this. This was one of the worst outcomes that could happen.

“I volunteer!” a man suddenly cried out, “I volunteer as tribute!”

Viktor looked at the young man. Hair was as dark as night. Clothes that didn’t exactly fit him. Hands grayed from the mines. He watched as the Peacekeepers escorted him to the stage. The small boy he just saved was running to his mother as she sobbed uncontrollably, holding her child tightly.

“What’s your name?” Celestino asked.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” the young man fumbled.

Yuuri Katsuki… This man was full of surprises. Maybe, he could come back from this nightmare after all…

**Author's Note:**

> Please, if you enjoyed this fic, leave a kudo and a comment. Those give me life. Also, here is [Viktor's Victory Tour Poster](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/331628765144809472/761742249612148796/Viktor.png) that I made for this fic.


End file.
